


Speak Quite A Storm

by Val_Creative



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Canon Era, Frenemies, Gen, Humans & Demons, Humor, Kuroshitsuji Secret Santa, Kuroshitsuji Secret Santa 2018, Mild Horror, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-09-30 21:16:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17231342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Val_Creative/pseuds/Val_Creative
Summary: Sebastian entertains the young Sieglinde playing mind games with him. It’s almost impressive. For a useless, dull human.





	Speak Quite A Storm

**Author's Note:**

> So I'm posting up for the [Kuroshitsuji Secret Santa 2018](http://fyeakuroshitsuji.tumblr.com/%22%22) and for the person I was gifting for [spookigoddess](https://spookigoddess.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr. I really enjoyed doing a Gen-based story between Sieglinde and Sebastian where they are just... testing each other's boundaries. Knowing full well what the other one knows. Making it a challenge. It was cool. Glad to have done it. Thanks if you are reading this for y'know reading this zfdsgyfh and any comments/thoughts are highly appreciated! :D

 

*

The drawing room is quiet with the exception of loud, abrupt slaps against bare flesh.

"One must write like a _lady_ if they are to see the Queen," Sebastian tuts, his white silk-gloved fingers drumming over the thin, inky-black discipline stick in his grasp. " _Refined_."

Sieglinde whimpers, cradling her hand growing bright red with welts for a moment. Her emerald eyes fill with huge, glistening tears and widen up at him. It's merely for show if anything. Child's play. If this were Mister Wolfram Gelzer, he would have apologized profusely to her by now.

"Young ladies such as yourself do not waste their precious hours by scribbling away in their notes."

" _Phooey_ ," Sieglinde mutters, bending over from her kneeling position to the Persian-style rug. The ends of her thick, midnight-colored hair quiver against her high, rosy cheekbones.

Among the litter of parchment and quills, Sebastian immediately notices the intricate, familiar designs of ancient warding runes. They're mixed into the mathematical equations and written framework of her newest scientific invention. "Therefore, it is best to pay mind to your actions and tidy up after yourself," he concludes, straightening his glasses, choosing to focus on her overly willful behavior.

From beyond the tall, immaculate doors to the Phantomhive's grand drawing room, they can hear Lizzy squealing enthusiastically and dancing around likely with the handheld, gilded bells while Ciel attempts to talk her into regaining her composure, even in a semi-private conversation between them.

Sieglinde's dark, lace-edged gloves smooth over one of her crinkled and yellowing notes.

"How long?" she asks, no longer tearful or defiant. Her voice as calm as the lakewater beyond the estate's grounds.

"I beg pardon, young lady?"

Emerald-green eyes remain on her task. She hums.

"How long does it take to develop a fully corporal form? I've always wondered about such a thing…" Every little gloved finger touches and spreads over the rug. Sieglinde finally gazes up, pleasantly smiling at the appearance of Sebastian's dumbfounded expression. "Oh, you're not the first demon I've encountered."

In the very recesses of his mind, he has suspected this. Nothing more than a tickle.

But true to the nature of Ms. Sieglinde's impatient mannerisms, she _would_ confess this freely and unafraid to said demon.

"My, my," Sebastian rumbles, also smiling. "Brilliance does not compare to your perception of the world."

"How long does Ciel have?"

"Young Master wishes to fulfill his greatest desire whilst he's still living. I intend to see it happen." He primly folds his arms together, maintaining a rigid, necessary hold on the discipline stick. Sebastian observes the faintest twitch in her expression, as if the bravado starts to wane. "Are you troubled?"

Sieglinde lets out a low, snorting noise, waving a hand. An _unlady-_ like gesture, Sebastian thinks in reproach. "Not at all. He's smart. Not as smart as me, but I believe this isn't entirely Ciel's fault," she says, hugging the arm cradling her big, leathered tome and old parchments to her front. "I could help him. There's countless amount of guards from supernatural beings and exorcisms. He would be safe with me."

No doubt there is an undercurrent of a challenge present in her girlish, amiable tone.

It's almost impressive. For a useless, dull human.

"Very good, young lady," Sebastian tells her, lessening his overly polite demeanor, the corners of his mouth fattening. The shadows of the drawing room intensify, creeping over the furniture and heavily curtained windows. "However… it is my sincerest apologies to remind you of the inevitability. Desire is a painstaking process, as is failure, and your wards and claim to protection would not last forever."

A gleam of reddish light permeates Sebastian's irises. He flashes a mocking and hauntingly wide grin down on Sieglinde, his molars visibly exposing like fangs.

The _hungry_ , dark shadows move, soundless and violently thrashing out into the open, crawling eagerly for the back of Sieglinde's head.

"So you see, young lady… … _nothing_ in Heaven nor in Hell could keep me from him."

In the midst of their encounter, he's even more impressed by the young, contemptuous look on Sieglinde's face. "Perhaps so," Sieglinde murmurs, lifting her nose demurely and stretching out her hand.

Sebastian takes it without hesitation, the irresistibly human mask returning. He hoists her up into his arms and places her down to a chair with an elegant flair. The darkness creeping in vanishes, replaced by warm, radiant morning-light. The sounds of Ciel and Lizzy trickling back in.

" _Perhaps so_."

*

 


End file.
